The Akatsuki and I
by Maddygirl4932
Summary: I'd read the stories- all of them. But nothing could have prepared me for meeting the Akatsuki face-to-face in my bedroom. In order to save my life, they give me a job: being their maid! If I knew cooking and cleaning would save my life one day, then maybe I would have learned to do a better job at it!


They should all be dead- no, moreover, they shouldn't even exist. Unless they were figments of my imagination; bred from loneliness, developing insanity, and a more than healthy dose of Naruto stories courtesy of …

But I'm not insane- quite the opposite even. I am practical… so even with all that practicality, why? Why were they here? They should be in my TV, replaying themselves with a re-run that's aired on Cartoon Network or Disney XD, heck, even YouTube would suffice right now. But not here. They didn't belong here… so why were they here; in my bedroom, with Itachi Uchiha's hand wrapped tightly around my neck?

Wait. Itachi Uchiha's hand is wrapped around my neck…

Well shit.

Then I was hyperventilating, breathing deeply and rapidly with splotches of black invading my vision through sheer, unadulterated fear. My hands, pathetically shaking and floating above his pressing hold, translated the inner debate I was having on whether to attempt ripping his fingers away or to continue wheezing away like some dying fish.

The looks I was receiving were not helping. Being eyed like some rare, near-extinct creature by the Akatsuki-the Akatsuki that weren't supposed to be real- did not help remedy this panic attack.

"Breathe, you know, in and out." The sharkman, Kisame's, voice instructed. The sick pleasure and condescending tone didn't bypass me, even in my freak-out. However, it got the point across and my dry heaves birthed into quiet sobs.

Pein, I mean, Leader's voice shook me violently from whatever fear Itachi had invoked and sent me shuddering from the meer way he carried himself and his commanding tone. "Speak, girl. What is your clan name? What village is this?"

For a moment, only a fleeting moment of stupidity, I considered reprimanding the redhead for demanding things of me in my own home while I'm obviously suffering. But though I'd briefly skimmed through most of the invasion of Konoha, I'd managed to see what had been done to Hinata by this ruthless man.

I didn't want to be taught pain by Pein.

So instead, I obediently craned my neck to peer past Itachi, careful to avoid his red, spinning eyes, and submissively held my gaze at Leader's feet. There was no use in lying, one step outside or a glance out the window and they'd know. They'd know and I'd be dead. Yeah, no point there.

I swear to you, I thought over my words carefully. I wanted to cushion the impact, the shock, anything to enhance the chance of my own survival. But as much as I believed in my own self-preservation, there was no way to 'cushion' this blow. "My name is Elena, and in this world, you don't exist."

Their reactions were quite...dramatic... It was as if I'd pressed the red button that said, 'Don't Press Here', because everyone aside from Itachi- who was too cool for that freaking out shit- Leader, Sasori, and Konan started barking in protest to their own existence. Indignant cries, angry shouts, and even sobbing from Tobi, whom I eyed carefully, could be heard amongst the mass of red and blacked cloaked ninja.

Leader rose a hand; everyone silenced.

He narrowed his ringed eyes, "In this world, you say?"

I nodded quickly, eager to prove the value of my life, "Y-Yes! This world...planet...it's called Earth!"

Hidan snorted, swinging his blade so it's sharp, taunting edges embedded itself into the wall beside my head, "Why don't we just kill this lying little bitch already? Jashin-sama likes virgins."

I looked at him. "How do you know I'm a virgin!?" He chuckled and I frowned. "W-What?"

"That isn't the point," Leader cut in without batting an eyelash, "Tell us about your world. I feel no chakra aside from the Akatsuki within a ten-mile radius."

I frowned- greatly disappointed that unlike the stories I'd entertained myself with, I wasn't harboring some secret, awesome storage of chakra. "We don't use chakra here on Earth."

Leader considered this for a moment before withdrawing to the back of the room, followed by Konan, and taking his massive presence with him. I let out a breath of fresh air as Itachi released his half-hearted grip of my neck and slid toward Kisame and Kakuzu, determined to discuss whatever the hell was more important that holding me captive, whist Hidan polished his scythe excitedly for my bloodshed. Sasori, amidst this transition approached me in low-tones.

"I've noticed several strange occurrences upon your 'interrogation', little girl."

I felt snarky- no, annoyed- at having my peace and moment of collection ruined by yet another Akatsuki member. Practicality abandoned me. "Oh, really?"

Puppet-boy's lip twitched into an amused smirk. "Yes, really. I'd be glad to explain them to you...if you live that long."

My mouth curled in distaste for his allusion at my death, but slowly curved into a smile at my next thought. I had the upperhand. His death, all their deaths, were common knowledge to me- to everyone. But my own, that was debatable. I could live if I played my cards right. But he and every single one of them would die.

"I could say the same to you, Danna."

The redhead's eyes flashed. No doubt he was wondering how I'd know that piece of seemingly stupid piece of information. But it was personal information too. Only Deidara called him that, and unless I knew them personally, there was no way I could know that little tidbit.

But there were so many things they didn't know. They didn't know I cheated when I played; that I held cards and tricks up my sleeves, throwing them down and out whenever I wished. Nope, they didn't know at all…

In this delusional little game of cards, they had a handicap.

My lips twisted upward in a small, knowing smirk.

I've never had to play Poker, Blackjack, or whatever kind of fucked-up card game my hands been forced into. But I was a quick learner. This was just like a card game. I could lose or, I could reap the benefits of being able to say I lived with ten (hot) criminals from an anime and survived.

My mind was already made up when Leader broke away from his meeting with Konan, the whole world seeming to shush themselves.

I threw down my imaginary cards, crossing my fingers behind my back.

"Konan and I have delegated," He said, and my breath caught, "We've decided to spare the girl so long as she sustains a way for us to eat, live, and essentially survive provided this 'alternate-dimension theory' is true."

I smiled, straight flush.

Or so I thought…

I was pretty confident in my abilities to keep the Akatsuki entertained in this world until I realized there were freakin' ten of those bastards. Ten of those bastards that I was expected to play a fucking maid for. That meant cooking around thirty meals a day, snacks not included, having to teach them about this world's mannerism and daily happenings, and having to clean up after.

I realized this when, around 8:30p.m., Deidara stumbled up to my room- which I barricaded myself in shortly after being released from interrogation- clutching his stomach with his weird mouth-hands.

"I'm hungry, un." He groaned, and sure enough, his stomach growled loudly in agreement, "and so is everyone else…"

I'm a horrible cook. Most often, the things I make are microwavable and taste a bit better than cardboard at best. But there was something I could make without fault that was tasty, quick, and my mother happened to buy multiple packages of. It was the food of the gods, and, it'd be the food of the Akatsuki as well.

"I can only really make ramen…" I muttered to Deidara before he broke off into the living room, leaving me by myself. I continued onwards, past Itachi, Kisame, and Sasori till I reached my kitchen. Sasori kept right behind me, abandoning Itachi and Kisame, and settled himself along the counter.

I ignored him, fishing in the cabinets for a large pot, and struggling once I'd found it to carry it over to the stove. Sasori, whom I'm sure was much stronger than I, didn't even offer his hand.

"It's pitiful you're so weak," murmured Sasori, looking much more interested in his fingernails than he was with me, "If you were stronger, you'd be a much more entertaining toy to play with."

I drew a cup from the overhead cabinet near Sasori's head, not even bothering to acknowledge him as I reached around him. Turning on the tap, I filled it up before dumping the contents into the pot. Silently, I repeated this process.

"Are you so ignorant not to retort, little girl?"

I dumped another cup into the pot.

"Is it because I insulted you? Called you weak? I only speak the truth…"

Another and another went into the pot.

"Fine, I'll give you a compliment."

The pot was filled.

"...you've caught my attention, little girl."

I smirked to myself. "Danna, please sit down and stop uttering nonsense. I'm sure I've caught everyone's attention- yours is not special."

Sasori's winning smile faded quickly, and with a huff, he turned and settled himself down in a chair. "Don't get cocky, Brat. I won't hesitate to kill you."

I broke the first package of Ramen and let the dried noodles fall into the boiling pot of water. "I know not to get cocky when living in a house with people who could kill me."

"You seem pretty calm about this…"

I wasn't, not by a long shot. No one liked sharing their living space with a bunch of homicidal maniacs, hot as they may be. But I'd already had my panic attack, so there wasn't much else to do except numbly go through the motions of cooking and cleaning- the stuff I would've learned if I knew it would save my life one day.

But I didn't say all that. Mainly because Sasori's eyes held a strange bit of mischief; a mischief I didn't trust very well. He was a puppet, a puppet that couldn't feel. He couldn't understand how I felt.

"Ah," I settled with, and I could tell I irked Sasori with my nondescript manner.

The two of us didn't talk much after that, but there was no way this was the end of our little-could you call it a discussion?- talk. He had blatantly stated he was interested in me, probably because I knew too much to be 'just a little girl', but he hadn't addressed the how and why I'd known his name.

Perhaps he didn't want to know why. I mean, Sasori looked like the puzzle-kind-of-guy. He wanted to figure it out, just so he could shove it down my throat and make me choke on my own smirk as he did.

The sadistic, little fuck.

Thinking this, I scowled absently at the remainder of ramen in the pot. There wasn't much left for me since Kisame had insisted on three helpings. I scooped out the last bits, scraping the bottom for any little bit of extra that could turn this pathetic heap of noodles into an actual dinner.

When I'd scrounged enough, motherfucking Sasori nearly danced toward me, swiftly grabbed MY bowl of ramen, and replaced it with his empty bowl. He winked, "Thanks, doll," before settling back down at the table and helping himself to MY dinner.

That sadistic, little fuck.


End file.
